Sunday, August 24, 2008

At first I worried that I was being impulsive, that I was letting my emotions and a gut reaction to the world that I've known crashing down around me guide me. On the plane, I sat wired, flipping through the satellite channels, asking myself what the fuck I was doing.

The pleasure of driving my rental car along the winding roads didn't calm my nerves--until I started driving south, rolled down my windows, breathed in the ocean air, felt every bronchile in my lung open up and saw this:

Everyone keeps asking me why Nova Scotia? Why not Nova Scotia? (Nando once told me that his life philosophy wasn't "why?" it was "why not?" I'm adopting this life philosophy as my own.)

But the answer is a little more obvious: I went for the ocean. (Okay, and to check out real estate, because earth-sheltered homes consume more of my thoughts than they should.)